


Carpe Diem

by deedeeinfj



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending to "Blood at the Wheel."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/gifts).



> For gaslightgallows because she spoils all of us with such yummy smut and fluff (often together, bless her), and she gave me this delicious prompt.

"When I thought it was you in that wreckage, I found it unbearable."

"Sounds serious."

"It is."

"I am who I am, Jack. I can't give that up."

"I'm not asking you to give it up. I would never ask you to do that." He raked his fingers through his hair, giving it a disheveled appearance that she would have enjoyed under normal circumstances. "I'm asking myself to stop being a miserable coward."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "Jack?" she whispered.

"Because... apart from the loss of you..." He uttered a curse under his breath and reached for her whisky, which she handed over without a thought. He threw it back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and set the empty glass down - using the motion, it seemed, to turn away from her slightly. "From a cowardly sense of self-preservation, I would have thrown away any chance to be with you. To really be with you. To show you how I feel. To... to touch you. Taste you." His voice broke. "Hold you."

It pained her too much to allow him to continue. She went to him, turning him to face her. "Jack," she said, her voice still a whisper. "I will not stand by and allow you to call your honor, your nobility, cowardice."

"Honor?" he scoffed. "Petty jealousy. Not wanting to share you. Being too afraid to share myself with you because I didn't know if I would be able to put myself back together again. I still don't. And my pride! My goddamned pride, Phryne. I refused to be 'just another.' I had to be special. It had to be something more. It--"

"Stop this instant, Jack Robinson." She pressed her fingers to his lips. "If I ever heard anyone insult you, I would pull the knife from my garter and make him regret it for the rest of his life. What makes you think I'll let you do it?"

His eyes, which had been red and shining, spilled over at last. "I thought I had lost you," he gasped, his voice and demeanor so broken that it frightened her as much as it tore at her. "I thought I had lost you."

She pulled his head to her shoulder and held him as tightly as she could. "Oh, Jack," she murmured into his hair. "Darling, I'm right here."

Jack cared for her; she had known that already. But she hadn't realized the depth of his feelings. She was moved, to be sure, but also honored that he would allow her to be privy to this moment of naked vulnerability. Only the strongest man would give himself permission to weep in the arms of a woman he loved and wanted, and she wished she could pull him right through her skin and into her heart. To repay his trust with all the solace she could offer.

All the love.

Phryne didn't know if she could ever fall in love again, but she did know that she loved Jack just as much as she loved Dot and Jane and Mac and even stuffy Aunt Prudence. She cherished his friendship. Cherished _him_. And if she ever could, ever wanted, to fall in love, Jack was the only man for her.

As the minutes passed, he stilled and quieted in her arms. She stroked the nape of his neck with her fingers until he pulled away from her, back straight. His eyes were so dark, so full of desire and love, that she had to remind herself to take a breath.

"I want to make love to you," he said. His gaze never wavered. There was no blush. No uncertainty.

"Jack..." Rare was the occasion when she had no words, but she could find none. No, she had one: _Yes! Yes! Yes!_ Something held her back. Her conscience? Her fear of promises she could not give?

Jack touched her cheek and brushed his fingertips down the side of her neck. He leaned in close, pausing just before his lips touched hers. "May I?" he asked.

She nodded, and then she was opening her mouth under his, sighing as he caressed her with lips and tongue. Their only other kiss had been hard and desperate and distracted, over before her addled brain could process what was happening. This kiss was slow and tender.

His next words were spoken into their kiss, their mouths barely parting between the words and phrases. "I want to be with you. I don't expect anything from you." He stopped and looked down at her, cupping her face in his hands. "I've wasted so much time - so many moments - for the sake of a selfish desire for you to change, when I should have adjusted my own ideas." He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "I am desperately in love with you, Phryne."

Troubled, Phryne stepped back from his embrace. "As much as I want you, Jack, this can only lead to pain for you. You're upset, and--"

"You could cause me no pain worse than what I felt today, believing that I had lost any chance to be with you. Take another lover tomorrow night, Phryne. Take a hundred. Only count me as one of them."

"And our friendship?"

"Can I not be a friend who makes love to you on occasion?" The corner of his mouth tipped up into his usual crooked smile.

" _Can_ you?" She stepped closer to him and tugged on his lapels. "Please don't ask me to hurt you," she said softly.

"I know what I'm doing. I'm not the reckless one, remember? My eyes are open." He drew her body up against his. "And I want you."

"You'll turn my head, Jack Robinson," she murmured, smiling, her gaze flitting from his eyes to his mouth.

"Is that a yes?" he asked in that low register that always gave her goosebumps.

"The first of many you'll hear tonight. Care to join me upstairs?"


	2. Chapter 2

In her room, Phryne draped a kimono over her arm and picked up the box that held the "wonderful invention." She stopped in front of Jack, who still stood where she had left him at the door, as if overcome. She laid a hand on his cheek. "I'll return in a moment," she said, smiling, "prepared and much more comfortable. You might want to do the same."

When she returned and locked the door behind her, she was pleased to see that Jack was barefoot and down to his singlet and trousers. He had been sitting on her bed, but stood as she entered.

She walked directly into his arms and offered her lips, which he readily covered with his, resuming the wordless conversation they had begun downstairs. Oh, but he was good at kissing. She had suspected as much and was thrilled to be proven right. Running her hands up his arms and around his shoulders, she hummed with appreciation of his solid muscles.

"You feel good, Jack," she told him as his lips wandered down to her neck. She tilted her head to encourage him, to silently ask for more of what he was doing. She was giving him the lead tonight. His teeth scraped the shell of her ear, and she shivered, carding her fingers into his hair to hold him closer.

He reached for the tie on her kimono and looked at her for confirmation, which she granted with an eager nod. He obviously hadn't expected her to be naked underneath, judging by his sharp intake of breath and the delightful blush that colored his face and neck. The robe hung loose at her sides, and Jack slid his hands inside to curve around her waist and over her backside.

Phryne gave a quiet moan of approval as he pulled her hips to his, allowing her to feel the hard evidence of his arousal.

"Your skin is like silk," he mumbled against her shoulder. "And you taste like rose water." He nuzzled his nose into her hair and inhaled. "You overwhelm me."

Something inside her unwound, spread inside her chest, and traveled through her blood to every part of her. It was more than desire. No, it was much more powerful, much more terrifying than desire.

"Jack," she breathed.

Still holding her steady with his strong hands, he sank to his knees and explored her belly with his mouth before wandering down to her thighs. He paused for a few seconds that felt like eternity, his forehead resting against her hipbone. Then he lifted her leg and draped it over his shoulder.

And he kissed her. He kissed her and worshiped her and made love to her with his mouth in a way that she had never experienced. Other men had been more skillful, to be sure, but none had been so connected to her body, to what she felt, to what she wanted. Perhaps what her body wanted - what _she_ wanted - was Jack.

When she cried out and melted into him, he gathered her in his arms and laid her down on the bed. He stretched out beside her and kissed her hungrily, closing one large hand over her breast. She arched up to press her chest to his and was frustrated at the thin cloth that separated them. Jack seemed to agree, for he paused and pulled his singlet up over his head. This time her breasts met his warm skin and the solidity of his chest, and her fingernails sank into his back in her desperation to hold him closer, closer, never close enough.

He lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the small, tight peak.

"Jack, I want to feel all of you," she panted, stroking his lower leg with her foot. "Let me touch you, darling."

She rolled them over and reached down to free him from everything else that stood in their way. His hands covered hers, stopping her.

"Phryne..." His voice was rough. Completely undone. He swallowed, and she leaned forward to lick his throat. "Not too much... I can't..." He took a deep breath. "If this is to be all, I don't want..."

She stilled, her heart aching, and kissed him tenderly. "This will not be all," she said. She traced his jawline with the backs of her fingers. "Unless you want it to be. This has been wonderful, Jack. You are wonderful." She moved her hands at his waistband. "Let me show you."

He swallowed again and nodded, his eyes fixed on her face as he moved his own hands out of her way. She pulled down the remainder of his clothing and tossed it aside, along with her kimono, which she quickly shrugged off. Locking her gaze on his, she ran her hands up his thighs. His penis was on the good side of an average length, and he was thick. Knowing how good he would feel, she was tempted to take him now, but she held on to her resolve to pleasure him first with her mouth. He deserved to have a lover give him every bliss in her power, and she felt privileged to be that woman.

Her lips touched the hard, aching tip of him, and she absorbed his moans like a symphony as she feathered kisses down his shaft and back up. She closed her hand around him.

"Don't hold back from me," she said, stroking him slowly and gently. "I want to taste you. And when you are ready for me again, we'll make love with you inside me. I want that, too, Jack."

"Please, Phryne."

"Oh, darling, you don't have to beg," she smiled.

At the moment she slid her mouth over him, she felt shaky fingers lacing themselves through the fingers of her free hand, clasping them tightly. That warm pressure in her chest, which had faded to the back of her mind, flared again, startling in its intensity.

She enjoyed pleasing men this way, finding that it aroused her almost as much as it did them. And, yes, she felt aroused as she did it for Jack. But she also felt something she could only describe as joy. Feeling the trembles of his body, hearing his sounds of pleasure, knowing that she could give him this... it made her _happy_.

"Phryne," he gasped, "I'm..."

She squeezed his fingers and hummed as he climaxed in her mouth. As she licked her lips and wiped her mouth, she watched the fast rise and fall of his chest, the spread of his ribs. She kissed her way up his torso to lie down beside him, her body curved into his.

"Jack," she whispered.

He shifted his body so that he lay facing her. "I love you, Phryne," he said. Then, looking uncertain, he asked, "Does it bother you when I say that?"

"No." She closed the distance between them and kissed him. "I rather like it." After kissing him again, she feathered her fingertips over his shoulder and down his arm. "Does it bother you that I can't say it?" There was a thoughtful silence, and Phryne appreciated that he hadn't blurted out any answer that she might want to hear. "I care for you," she said softly. "I respect you for your integrity. I enjoy your company. I desire you physically, and making love with you has been everything I hoped it would be. You are the best man I know, Jack Robinson."

"'But yet thou shalt have freedom.'"

She smiled a little. "'So, so, so.'" *

Bracing herself with a hand on his chest, she rose over him and kissed him deeply. Jack pushed himself up against the headboard and pulled her into his lap. She felt him beneath her, ready for her again, and she reached down to guide him into her. He locked his arms around her waist, and she sighed because Jack felt good inside her, and his body felt good against hers, and everything about this was like coming home. Happy.

"I would never cage you in any way but this," Jack said quietly. His arms tightened as his hips thrust up against hers.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her forehead falling to his hair. Her hands grasped at his hair, his back, the headboard, whatever would anchor her to his body, which was meeting hers in just the right way with every thrust. "Jack," she cried. "Jack... so good, darling... you feel so good..."

The sound of her name on his lips was doing as much for her as their physical connection. "You are perfect," she heard him say, just as breathless as she was. "That's it, love."

With one more ecstatic cry of his name, she found her release and felt her muscles tighten around him. He groaned, long and low, and followed her to completion.

Phryne allowed her body to sag against his, and he continued to hold her to him. He was softening inside her, and the sweat was cooling on her skin, and she knew they should move. But she didn't want to.

"Should I go?" he asked, his lips tickling the hair at her ears.

She pulled back and cupped his neck in her hands. "Only if you want to." She pressed a tender kiss to his upper lip. "I'd like you to stay."

He smiled with both corners of his mouth, her beautiful Jack. "Then I'll stay," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is from _The Tempest_ , when Prospero sets Ariel free.
> 
> _"Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;  
>  But yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so."_
> 
> Also, I posted that drabble thing on Tumblr, so if you want to request a prompt from this fandom or some other one, you are welcome to make me write!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, this chapter had no idea what it was doing. Neither did Phryne and Jack. And I sure didn't. Hopefully, you won't be able to tell?

If any other man had disturbed her too early in the morning, she would have killed him with a clear conscience. She knew a variety of creative ways now. But this wasn't any other man. This was her Jack.

She could tell by the light, careful way he trailed his fingers over her skin that it had not been his intention to bother her. And she could tell that he thought she was still asleep. She kept her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted, though she stirred just a bit as if in slumber. His fingers stilled suddenly on their path, which at that moment lay between her breasts. After a moment, he seemed to decide that all was safe, and she felt his fingertips move and trace along her clavicle. She couldn't help shivering.

"Mmmm, Jack," she sighed without opening her eyes. Everything in moderation, especially mornings.

"I'm sorry," he said, and gods above, his morning voice was the most arousing sound she had ever heard. "I couldn't help myself."

"I don't want you to help yourself," she replied with a lazy smile. She laid her hand over his and dragged it to cover her breast. "Touch me until it... what's the word? Cloys your appetite."

"Did you forget the rest, Miss Fisher? You make hungry where most you satisfy."

He quoted Shakespeare too early in the morning for her liking, but as long as he did it like this, with the scrapings of his stubble against her skin and the wet warmth of his tongue on her nipple, she would overlook the offence.

She pulled more of his weight onto her. "Miss Fisher now, is it?" she teased. "After you've gotten what you came for?"

"Not nearly, Miss Fisher," he growled.

_Well, then._

"Kiss me," she said. It was meant to be a demand, but it came out sounding very much like begging.

He looked up from her belly. "I'm getting there." His smile was positively wicked.

Jack Robinson was proving himself to be something to behold in the morning. To behold and to hear (his voice was indecent, truly!) and to be kissed and teased by. He was something she wanted every morning. Her heart thudded almost painfully.

She tugged on his hair. "My mouth, you charlatan," she said.

"I would, but..." He frowned and exhaled against his palm.

With a laugh, Phryne fumbled at her nightstand and produced a small silver box of peppermint sweets. That little inconvenience taken care of, she pulled him up to her.

They smiled at each other like a pair of lovesick children. He was lovesick. She was... she was lovesick.

_I am in love with this man._

Jack's smile faded. "Phryne, are you unwell? Your face turned to ash suddenly." He pressed the backs of his fingers to her forehead. "Should I call--"

She touched her forefinger to his lips. "Kiss me, Jack," she whispered.

"But--"

"Kiss me."

He did. Sweetly, thoroughly, and well. He tasted of peppermint.

"I waited too long to be with you like this," he said. "I find myself torn between feeling that it was worth the wait and hating myself for wasting so much time."

"Perhaps the time was exactly what it needed to be."

"Phryne?" he prompted.

She pushed him onto his back and slid her body over his. "Last night, you told me that you would ask nothing of me. That you don't care if I take a hundred other lovers."

"I meant it," he replied.

"I know you did." Allowing herself a moment of distraction, she kissed him. His lips were soft and unhurried, but she could feel him beneath her, hard and wanting her. "But I find myself in the curious position of wanting only one."

Jack was quite still. Almost eerily still, as if any movement might make everything go away. She watched his throat move as he swallowed. "Why?" he asked.

"Because," she said slowly, trying to think faster than she spoke, "if you had left me last night... if you had ended our friendship, our partnership... I would have felt as if you had died in that car."

"But I'm not leaving. I meant what I said, and I certainly never intended to manipulate you into thinking--"

She stopped his mouth with a quick kiss. "Jack, I'm telling you that I love you." She smiled at his stunned face, still marked with the creases of sleep, and kissed him again. "I'm in love with you," she whispered.

"And your freedom?"

"Perfectly safe with you. I know that." She frowned. "But you don't seem pleased at all."

"This is sudden."

"The realization of it is, as you learned yourself when Hugh called you to that wrecked motorcar." She stroked his brow with her fingers as if doing so could smooth out the troubled lines. "The realization is, Jack, but the feelings are not. Last night, everything felt different. There was the usual pleasure, but there was..." She shook her head, unable to find the words. "There was something more. And I felt it again this morning, waking up with you. I feel it now."

His eyes searched hers, and he reached up with both hands to tuck her hair behind her ears. They lingered at her jaw to frame her face. "You are the most exquisite thing I've ever seen," he said, lowering his hands to her hips.

"Exquisite, Jack? This early?"

He smiled. "At every hour. Isn't a lover meant to say nice things?"

"Perhaps. But a friend is meant to say true things."

"Fortunately for you, Miss Fisher, I am both."

"Still 'Miss Fisher'!" she laughed.

"I like it," he said amiably, flipping her backwards. He slipped his hand between them and traced her warmth with his fingers. She knew what evidence he was collecting, and he appeared satisfied.

"Jack?" she murmured as he began to push into her.

His jaw clenched. "Phryne?"

She moaned as he filled her. "You're..." She paused to catch her breath. "You're rather exquisite, too."


End file.
